The Journey Begins Chapter 1
by WhoKnowsWhy
Summary: This is a take on the backstory in Solitary. SayidNadia Inspired by a thread on The Fuselage. Thanks to mrstater, Cassandra, and mydoglikesbeer for the inspiration.
1. Chapter 1

_This is something I've thought about for a while. Inspired by a thread on The Fuselage. Thanks to mrstater, Cassandra, and mydoglikesbeer for the inspiration._

_Once again these are not my characters they belong to the creators of LOST. God bless 'em. (More Nadia, please)_

The Journey Begins

Chapter 1

In Iraq corruption filtered down from the top. Bribes were commonplace, in the highest echelons of Sadaam's regime and in the lowest ranks of the Guard. At the prison contraband was exchanged more often than money. Cigarettes or a cigar could buy someone five or ten minutes undisturbed with a father, son, or husband about to be executed. A bottle of forbidden wine or liquor might buy an hour or so, more if the guards couldn't resist temptation and drank it. Movie videos, smuggled in from the west, could guarantee the guards would leave you alone indefinitely. Inspections were rare. No one talked because everyone was guilty, and the punishment for all concerned was death, or worse. Sayid was familiar with the game. He had sources for almost anything and had used them liberally since she had been arrested.

He came to her almost every night bringing food, water, and sometimes something to ease the pain of whatever he'd had to do to her that day. He stayed only for minutes at first, just to make sure she was all right and that she would accept what he had brought. Now, though, he was sure that the order to execute her would come any day. She still refused to cooperate, and Omar was running out of patience. So he brought better bribes, and stayed longer.

His mind raced constantly, trying to find a way to prevent the inevitable. His heart raced each time he entered the cell. He could tell she was scared now. "Will it be soon?" She asked him.

"Yes, but..."

She began talking to him then, as he held her, running his hands through her hair. Not about what he wanted to know during the day, but about things she had seen, atrocities committed by Sadaam, his sons, and the guard. Atrocities committed against people he knew. "Our people, Sayid." She kept telling him. Some things he knew about, the rest didn't surprise him. He knew that some of the people he tortured didn't talk because there was nothing to say. They were innocent. She was not totally innocent, that much was clear. But neither was he.

"Do you pray?" She asked him.

"Of course." It was more out of habit than any kind of devotion at this point, but he didn't tell her that.

"What do you pray for?"

A way to save you, and myself, he thought.

"Allah's strength and wisdom, I suppose." He said.

"Are your prayers answered?" She raised her head from his chest to look him in the eye.

"I don't know."

She smiled. "How would you? You aren't sure of what you believe, are you? You know this isn't who you are. I know that much."

"I do what I have to do. I follow orders."

"And when they order you to shoot me?"

He touched her face, kissed her forehead, her cheek, her lips, gently. "That I cannot do."

"How. ?"

He shushed her with another kiss. She opened her mouth to his and the darkness of the cell seemed to close in around them. Eventually she broke away. "I asked how you plan to avoid shooting me."

"I don't know yet." His head was spinning both from the kiss, and from the growing panic that he wouldn't be able to save her in the end.

He stood. "I'd better go." He knew it was close to morning. It was too dangerous to be seen leaving by the next shift of guards. They weren't the ones he had bribed.

"No matter what today brings," He told her, helping her to her feet. "If I am here, don't be afraid. I won't let anything happen to you." He tilted her chin up and looked into her eyes. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." She said. "I trust you."

After he left, she sat against the wall, pulling her knees up to her chest like she had as a child. Tilting her head back, she let the tears come. When she saw him the day she was arrested she thought perhaps she could use the past to save herself. Falling in love with him again had not been part of the plan. Yet, there it was. In his eyes she saw the same boy she had loved. The same boy she had told her mother she would marry someday.

"Your father would never allow such a thing." Her mother said flatly, referring to his family's lower status.

"Yours did, Mama." Twelve-year-old Nadia had answered.

"Your mouth will get you into trouble one day, daughter." She said, touching the child's smooth cheek as she spoke. "Make sure what you want is worth the price."

How she wished she could feel her mother's touch just once more. She must have dozed off for the cell door opening jarred her awake. Sayid stood there with two guards.

"Get up." He told her. There was none of the softness in his voice that had been there earlier, but she remembered his words: _No matter what today brings, if I am here don't be afraid. _

He threw a black hood on the floor at her feet. "Put it on."

She did as he told her, hands trembling. _I trust him_, she said over and over to herself, _I trust him._

She allowed herself to be led out of the cell and down the hall, unsure who was holding her arm. Then, his voice, close to her ear. "I'll take it from here." He said. She heard footsteps as the guards walked away. Suddenly the hood was torn off and he pulled her around a corner, crouching down low.

In hushed tones he explained the plan to her. A truck, she could hide in the back, there would be plenty of time to make an escape before it reached the city. She begged him to come with her, but he refused. "It would be even more dangerous for both of us...and my family..." He reached out to touch her face.

"What's going on here?"

Looking up she saw another officer, staring at Sayid and drawing his gun.

"Omar..."Sayid said. Then realizing he had no choice, he shot him. The file the officer was carrying fell to the floor, its contents spilling out.

"Now you have to come, too." She told him. Again he refused and realizing it was no use she hastily grabbed a photo from the scattered papers on the floor, scrawled a message on the back of it and gave it to him.

"Go!" He said to her.

"But, how will you explain..."

"You took my gun and shot us both."

"Both?" Then as she watched, horrified, he took the gun and shot himself in the leg. He grimaced in pain and the gun clattered to the floor. She picked it up. Giving him one last glance, Nadia turned and ran.


	2. Chapter 2

For Sayid, the next days passed in a haze of pain and drug-induced dreams. Faces swam above him, voices speaking too fast to understand, or so slowly it was agonizing. As consciousness returned two thoughts occupied his mind. _Had she escaped safely? _and _When would the questioning begin? _He knew his previous record would mean nothing. A prisoner had escaped on his watch and his superior officer was dead. He would be lucky to get off with a simple demotion. His career as he had known it was over.

There was no one to answer his questions. Nurses and the doctor came and went. His leg would heal. He was lucky. No permanent damage. So he waited and wondered.

In the middle of the night he was awakened by a noise. Someone was in the room. He sat up, only to be pushed back down, a hand firm on his chest.

"Listen to what I say."

As his eyes adjusted he saw the man speaking. He looked familiar, but Sayid couldn't place him.

"I am not here because I want to be. My sister is a fool, but she is a determined fool. You saved her life, so I will attempt to save yours."

_One of her brothers? Kahlid? No. _"Assef?" Sayid said

"Yes."

"Is Nadia all right?"

"Yes. Now shut up and listen. One of the guards you bribed has told them everything. They know about the visits and assume that the escape and Omar's death were planned. They will be here soon so you need to decide quickly.

"How do you know this?"

"I know much. There is a hearse outside taking bodies out of the city to be buried. I know the driver and we have switched places for the evening. This will not be pleasant, but I can get you out if you come with me now. Yes or no?""

"My family?"

"They will be disgraced whether you live or die. You might as well live. I have some influence. No harm will some to them if I can help it. We need to leave now."

"Yes."

Assef brought a gurney in from the hall and helped Sayid onto it, covering him with a sheet. He pushed the gurney quickly down the hall and into the ambulance bay at the back of the building. Assef pointed out the hearse. "You will need to get in the back. As I said, it will not be pleasant."

Assef hadn't lied. The smell was overpowering. It was all he could do to climb in and find a spot among the bodies. Two were in plain wooden coffins, but the others were wrapped in sheets and stacked like firewood. There was hardly enough room for him.

"Cover yourself with this." Assef told him, throwing in the sheet from the gurney. He did and soon the overloaded vehicle began to move, taking him away from all he had known. After a long while the car slowed to a stop. Assef opened the back door and Sayid stepped gratefully out into the fresh air. They were standing in front of a small store front on a deserted road.

"The man who lives here will help you continue your journey."

"May I ask where I am going?"

"There wasn't time before." Assef explained. "From here you will go to Ar Rutbah. There is a group of Jordanians there who will take you on to Amman. From there you will be free to go where you wish. You have friends in Cairo, do you not?"

"Some." Sayid was puzzled. "Where is she? Where is Nadia?"

Assef looked at him for a long moment. "By now, she is likely in Amman. She said to tell you she will wait for you there."

Relieved, he limped with Assef's help to the door of the building. Assef knocked twice and entered. The room was small and bare except for a table, two cots, and a generator attached to a small refrigerator and cookstove. A wonderful smell drifted from the stove. At the table, a man raised his head from the book he was reading.

"Ah, Assef, I've been expecting you. Is this the cargo?"

"Yes. I trust you can take it from here."

"Absolutely." And to Sayid he said "Sit down, you must be hungry." Assef stayed standing.

"I need to get back to the city. May Allah bless the rest of your journey."

He began to walk to the door, but turned back to Sayid. "I know what you did cost you. You have my thanks."

Sayid nodded. He ate what the man set in front of him, suddenly famished.

"There is plenty." The man smiled "Have more. You will need your strength."

"Thank you. I don't know your name."

"Nor I yours." The man put his finger to his lips. "It is safer that way."

"But you know Assef."

He laughed. "Everyone knows Assef, and Assef knows everyone." He sat down with his own plate. "You will rest here. A day, maybe two." He said between bites. "Your leg needs to heal. I have medicine for pain, and anti-biotics, but hopefully we will not need them. Once our journey begins we will have to travel quickly. The Baghdad-Amman Road is hazardous. I will take you as far as Ar Rutbah, another 200 miles or so. The Jordanians will meet us there. They have all the papers you will need to cross the border."

"All this...all this costs money. Who?" The man did not answer, but Sayid knew who had made these arrangements. How she had managed it so quickly was the mystery.

"You should rest." The man motioned to one of the cots. "Tomorrow I'll get you cleaned up and into some different clothes."

Sayid didn't think he was tired, but he was asleep the moment his eyes closed. The first undisturbed sleep he'd had in weeks. He slept until midday and awoke to the smell of frying meat and coffee. Whoever this man was, he was well supplied out here in the middle of the desert.

He stretched and got up, putting weight on his injured leg gingerly. To his surprise the pain was considerably less than before. Obviously he had needed the rest.

"You're awake. Come and eat."

They sat together, eating in friendly silence. "There is a shower out back. It's primitive, but it will do. He handed him a folded stack of clothing. "These should fit." Then he sat down, picked up his book and lit a cigarette. "You're moving well. We'll rest you yet today and leave in the morning."

The shower felt almost as good as the sleeping. He was careful of the wound in his leg and re-dressed it with a bandage he found with the clothing. When he was dressed he felt almost himself, except that he had nothing to do. He couldn't remember the last time he hadn't had some pressing issue or assignment to take care of. All he could do was think. He thought, of course, of her. He wondered where she was. What would happen when he saw her again? He knew, or thought he knew, what he wanted. Did she want him? It would seem so, but he wasn't sure. His entire life had changed in a few days because of her and it was unsettling not to know the future.

When he returned to the house he saw his host had set up an ancient chess set. "This should help us pass the time." He said. They spent the rest of the day playing. Despite being rusty, he managed a few surprises, but the man beat him soundly in the end.

He slept as well that night as the night before. He was roused before dawn by gentle shaking. "We need to leave soon." The man told him.

The man's car looked to be as old as he was. The paint was completely gone, as was the glass in the side windows, but it ran. It took them several hours to reach Ar Rutbah. When they arrived the car stopped in front of an apartment building and the man motioned inside. "Ask for Hassan. He is expecting you. I wish you luck." He handed him a bag from under the seat. "From Assef," He told him. "A change of clothes and some money." He smiled and said goodbye, waving as he drove off.

Sayid walked cautiously into the building. An old man sat in a chair by the doorway. He looked at Sayid.

"I'm looking for Hassan?" Sayid said.

The man took a receiver from a box on the wall and said something unintelligible into it. Then he looked at Sayid. "Two flights up. First door on the right." He pointed to the stairway.

Sayid climbed the stairs slowly. The long car ride had made his leg stiff and sore. Reaching the top of the second flight he turned right. The door ahead of him stood ajar and he could hear voices arguing.

"I don't care! If you had left when I told you to we wouldn't have this problem." A man's voice, obviously very angry.

"I needed to wait for him."

Sayid's heart pounded. _Assef said she was in Amman. But that is her voice._ Suddenly he felt self-conscious. He stood in the hallway, staring at the door, unable to take another step. After a moment he shook off his doubt. She had waited for him, after all, what was he afraid of? Before he could get to the door it swung wide. The girth of the man standing there completely blocked the doorway.

"I'm here to see Hassan."

"I am Hassan." The huge man said. "Come in." He backed himself inside so that Sayid could enter. Scanning the room anxiously he saw they were the only two people there. A hallway leading further back was the only clue as to where she might be. Hassan seemed to read his thoughts.

"Yes. Nadia is here, much to my dismay. She was to have left two days ago. She risks much by staying here and not just for herself. She has put my entire operation in jeopardy. If she was not Assef's sister..."

Sayid stared at Hassan, not sure how to respond. He heard a noise and turned his head. A moment later she was in his arms. Hassan left them and neither of them said anything for a long time.

She broke the silence. "Your leg," She said, "Is it all right?"

"It will be, yes." He said. "You sent Assef...you arranged all of this...how?"

"Assef did most of it." She told him. "He doesn't approve of me, but he can't deny me, either." She smiled.

"You're his baby sister."

"I am not a baby. Nor a child. " She said. As if to prove her point, she pulled his face to hers and kissed him. Then, taking him by the hand she led him down the hall into another room, shutting the door behind them. He pulled her close and kissed her again, parting her lips with his tongue. Any resistance either of them felt vanished in the knowledge that they were truly alone for the first time.

Afterward she lay sleeping in his arms. He should have been tired, but he was wide awake, holding her, memorizing every detail. She stirred and opened her eyes, smiling at him.

"Hassan is angry that you stayed here." He said softly.

She raised herself on one elbow and looked at him. "Hassan is a mother hen. He is worried that his operation here will be compromised. If he didn't worry and eat he would do nothing!"

"What is his operation?"

Nadia's face darkened. "It is better that you do not know."

His lips brushed her neck and he said "Considering everything, I think it is better if I do know."

She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and took a deep breath. "Hassan is a smuggler of sorts." She began. "He smuggles people into and out of Iraq with help from Assef and others...the Jordanians we will meet soon, hopefully, and a group from Istanbul. He has contacts with the Americans also, but it is too dangerous to work with them right now."

"He said you have put everyone in danger by staying to wait for me."

Nadia made a face. "As long as we are in Iraq we are in danger, all of us. It has nothing to do with when I choose to leave. Where will you go from Amman?" She asked, changing the subject. "Cairo?"

"I know some people there." He said. "I was thinking...maybe you would want to come, too."

"Do you want me to?"

"Yes."

She sat up, keeping the sheet around herself. She was quiet, and he was afraid to press the point. Finally she said. "I want to be with you, but I'm not sure what you expect." He said nothing, so she went on. "I'm not ready to be anyone's wife, perhaps I never will be. I don't want anyone making decisions for me or telling me what to do. " She stopped. "You are laughing at me!" She reached out to slap him, but he grabbed her wrist.

He laughed again. "Do you honestly think that I would ever imagine telling you what to do? You seem perfectly capable of making decisions on your own. You've certainly done that up to this point."

"Yes. And many people, including my family, would be happy to see someone else deciding for me. Do you think it is so easy to put the way we were raised behind us, just because we want to?"

"Not easy, but possible."

It was her turn to laugh now, but he pulled the sheet away and kissed her and the argument was forgotten as they made love again.

They couldn't get enough of each other over the next few days. Nadia knew it was reckless to begin this relationship in Hassan's house. He could very well be reporting everything to her brother. Assef would not be pleased, but she didn't care. She was used to having what she wanted.

Sometimes though, she worried that this time she would lose herself. Sayid seemed so sure of what he wanted. He made it sound so simple. She was only sure that she loved him. They continued to argue, playfully, but still disagreeing, about her coming to Cairo, and about marriage and all that came with it. Whenever he saw he was losing the argument, he would kiss her, or touch her, and she would forget what had seemed so important. She worried that he took her physical response as a surrender.

They lay together, her back pressed to his chest, his breathing soft against her neck.

"I don't think I want to go to Cairo." She said. She felt his body tense.

She turned to face him. "We could stay in Amman. I know people. It's a beautiful city." She smiled at him hopefully.

"I have to find some kind of work. My connections are in Cairo."

"I know , but..."

He interrupted her. "Do you want to stay in Amman for any other reason?"

"What do you mean?" She flopped onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Suddenly it felt like he was interrogating her again.

"I mean that it would be easier for you to be in touch with people to know what was going on here if you were in Amman as opposed to Cairo."

She said nothing.

"So," He looked down at her. "I am right? You want to keep your hand in things here?"

"And if I do?" She was angry now, but fighting back tears. "You would have me come to Cairo where I know no one but you. Do you want me to be dependant on you?"

"No." He said quietly. "I want you to be happy. Perhaps Amman is a better choice for you."

"For me...alone?" She asked.

"Do you want me there?"

"I want us to be together."

"Why?"

Nadia was quiet for a long time, weighing the consequences of what she wanted to say. "I want us to be together because I love you. I don't know what I want beyond that. I need time." She looked at him. "Just say you'll stay in Amman for a while. Then, if you aren't happy, we can talk about Cairo."

"You are stubborn." He smiled. " I suppose I could be persuaded to stay in Amman."

"Oh? And how could I persuade you?" She smiled, relieved.

"I'm sure I can think of something."


	3. Chapter 3

After more than a week there was still no sign of the Jordanians. Hassan was increasingly anxious and Sayid could tell even Nadia was concerned. Late one night they were awakened by pounding and the sound of voices. Suddenly the door opened.

"I apologize." Hassan said. "Please get dressed quickly and come. I have news."

They dressed and walked down the hall to the main room. Several men and a woman were gathered around Hassan. He motioned for Nadia to come to him, but she shook her head and took Sayid's hand in hers.

"What is it?" She asked. "Tell me."

"Assef is dead." Hassan said.

Sayid felt Nadia tremble slightly, but nothing else about her betrayed any emotion. "How?" She said.

One of the men answered. "A car bomb. Tell her the rest, Hassan."

"There seems to be an information leak. The Jordanians were ambushed two days ago. Three hours later Assef's car blew up. We need to leave this place. Now. It is no longer safe." He looked at Nadia and Sayid. "It isn't safe for us all to travel together. We need to split up. Nadia, you will come with me, the rest of you will go with Jalal." The man who had spoken earlier nodded.

Nadia looked at Hassan. "No." She said. "I want to go with him." She gripped Sayid's hand hard.

Hassan walked over. "For once you will do as I say. We will meet them in Amman in a week." Heput his hand on her shoulder. "One week is not so long, eh?"

Nadia turned away from him and walked back to the bedroom. Sayid followed her.

"It's okay." He said. "You trust Hassan, right?"

"Yes."

"Then go with him and I will see you in Amman in a week."

She came to him then and covered her face with her hands. He realized that he had never seen her cry. He put his arms around her and held her. "This is all happening because of me. I am stubborn and foolish. Hassan is right. I should have gone on ahead."

"No one forced Assef to help you, or me. He did it because he wanted to. You know he is involved in lots of things. We don't know that this had anything to do with you. I don't think he is always careful." He remembered what the man who brought him here had told him. _Assef knows everyone and everyone knows Assef. _"Do you want me to ask Hassan if I can go with you?"

She looked at him. "Maybe, if you talk to him..."

"All right."

But Hassan would not be budged. "It is better this way. You just have to trust me. I will not let anything happen to her. I give you my word."

They could do nothing but what he asked. Jalal was impatient to be on the way. "Say your goodbyes. I will wait for you downstairs."

Hassan left them alone, too.

"A week, that is all." He said to her.

"A week." She kissed him and buried her face in his shoulder. "I have loved you since I was twelve years old."

"I wish I had known."

"You know now."

"Yes, and I love you now. One week." He kissed her.

"You need to go." She kissed him again and walked him to the door.

The trip into Jordan was surprisingly uneventful. The border guards hardly looked at their papers and they were in Amman by evening. Now he had nothing to do but wait for the week to be over. Three days in however, there was a message from Hassan. Plans had changed and they would meet in Cairo instead.

The change made Sayid nervous. Nadia hadn't wanted to go to Cairo. Jalal gave him a plane ticket and the address of a place to stay. It was more of a dormitory than a hotel, but it was a place to sleep, and the people were friendly. He made contact with a friend from university about some job possibilities, but he didn't want to make any decisions until Nadia got there. Hassan had left enough cash that the delay wouldn't be a problem.

The week passed with no word. Then, two weeks. He managed to make contact with Jalal in Amman, but no one had heard from Hassan, or Nadia. Jalal promised to let him know as soon as he heard anything. "You'll probably see them before I will though." He told him. But Sayid was increasingly worried. Something was definitely not right. In the middle of the fourth week he answered a knock to find Hassan at his door. He knew from the look on his face that the news was not good.

"May I come in?" The big man said.

The room was small and Hassan filled most of it, leaving Sayid feeling a bit intimidated.

"I am afraid I owe you an apology."

"For what?"

Hassan sighed and lowered his bulk into a chair. "We were deceived. When we left Ar Rutbah, I thought we were meeting an associate in Damascus. Assef tricked me into bringing Nadia to him. He found out about the two of you. Suddenly he tires of her independence. Talks about her disgracing the family..."

"Assef...what do you mean? He isn't dead? The car bomb...?"

"No. It was a ruse. Entirely fiction."

"What was he planning to do?"

"Take her somewhere, I suppose, maybe even back into Iraq."

"But she would be killed!"

"Not if he kept her hidden, which would also be away of controlling her." Hassan shook his head.

Sayid's interrogation training took over and he stood over Hassan barely controlling his anger. "You talk as if this didn't happen. If she is not with Assef, where is she!"

Hassan looked at him, genuine anguish on his face. "I do not know. I only know that when we discovered what was going on she ran. She took money from my bag. Not that I wouldn't have given it to her."

"When did this happen?"

"Four days after we left Ar Rutbah."

"But that is almost a month ago. Why wouldn't she come here, to me?"

"She is not that foolish. This is the first place Assef would look. He has probably had me followed as well. That is why I waited so long to see you."

"But I could have protected her."

"Perhaps. But you do not know Assef. He tries to live between two worlds but isn't comfortable in either of them. He is very traditional in his views on women, yet he has helped his sister many times to do things that are not in line with his way of thinking. Helping you was one of those times. At this point however, he would have no qualms about eliminating you if you got in his way."

"So what do we do?"

Hassan laughed. " I am old and fat. I am not going to do anything. You, however, can do whatever you wish to try to find her. I can help. I know many of the people she knows and you might be able to pick up a trail. But, Assef knows these people too, so she may be reluctant to go to them. Many people owe a debt to Assef. I can offer one other thing. I am in a position to fund your search. Most of my money is busy making money, as they say. I will set up an account for you. You can draw from it as you wish and the bank will inform me when you need more."

"Why are you doing this? Don't you work for Assef?"

"I work for myself. I do owe a debt to Assef, it is true, but Nadia is special to me, and seeing you together..." He paused. "My wife died many years ago. I have never had the desire to marry again. Some people belong together. If I can help you to find her, it would give me great pleasure, and ease my conscience."

"Where do I start?" Sayid realized that without Hassan's help he wouldn't even know where to begin.

Hassan pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. "I've made a list of some of the people who might be inclined to help her, even with Assef involved. I suggest you start with those here in Egypt and Jordan. I will see what contacts I can make within Iraq. We'll be in touch and take it from there."

"How will I contact you?"

"I'll give you a number. Call, leave a message, and I will contact you. Stay here for a day or two while I get the bank account set up. I will let you know when things are ready." With great effort he hefted himself out of the chair. " I am truly sorry." He said.

Hassan left and Sayid thought about all that he had told him. He was inclined to trust him even though he had ties to Assef. His affection for Nadia was obviously genuine and his offer of money, and the list of names that he had given him would certainly help in a search. His choices limited, Sayid decided to believe him.


	4. Chapter 4

Sayid found nothing in Cairo. No one had seen or heard from Nadia or Assef, or so they said. After that trips to Syria and Turkey had also turned up little beyond vague recollections of a woman who might have been Nadia, but just as likely was not. Before he knew it, six months had gone by. He was frustrated and discouraged. Then a phone call from Hassan gave him hope.

"How I had forgotten this, I do not know." Hassan told him. "Blame an old man's failing memory. I was looking through some old photographs and I remembered. Nadia's mother had a younger sister, Leila. She left Iraq a long time ago, married an Egyptian. They live in Alexandria. If Nadia did not go to her, she may have at least contacted her somehow.

"Do you have a phone number, or an address?"

"No, but her husband's name was Zayed, I think his first name is Amir, but I am not sure. They are, or were, quite wealthy and well-connected. It should not be hard to find them."

Hassan was right. When Sayid reached Alexandria, it took him only an hour at the local post office to find the address. A woman answered his knock. If he had ever wondered what Nadia would look like as she aged, he wondered no more. This woman was obviously Leila. She looked at him curiously.

"Can I help you?"

"My name is Sayid Jarrah." He said. "I am looking for Nadia"

"How do I know you are who you say you are? Show me some proof." She eyed him suspiciously

He took out his passport and showed her.

"You have been many places in a short time. Come in."

They walked through an inner courtyard to a small living area.

"I cannot be too careful. Please, sit down." The woman said. "I am Leila Zayed, but I am sure you know that."

Sayid sat, scanning her face. Obviously she knew somethingbut what?

"Nadia was here." She began. "But it became necessary for her to leave. I am afraid I cannot tell you much more than that."

"When? Why did she leave?"

"She left over a month ago. Why...well, it was risky for her to be here anyway. Assef was bound to think of me eventually. She is frightened and concerned for your safety as well as her own. She would not tell me where she was going from here."

It was impossible to hide his disappointment. "I thought you would know..."

"I wish I could tell you more." Leila said. "She did talk of London several times. I think that she knows some people there. I don't remember any names she mentioned, but my husband might. Stay, have dinner with us. Perhaps Amir will be able to help you."

He stayed to meet Amir, but the man could not recall anything specific either, although he agreed that London was a good possibility. He gave Sayid the names of several friends there. "They may be able to put you in contact with the right people." He told him.

He thanked them and returned to Jordan to collect some things and make arrangements to go on to London. When he arrived ,in Amman Jalal greeted him with the news that Hassan had died of a heart attack. Although the bank account Hassan had set up for him was large, Sayid knew it would not last forever. He would need to find work at some point

In London, Amir's friends were certain that Nadia was there. Jalal warned him that Assef had also traveled to London, which made Sayid more certain that she was indeed there, somewhere. He stayed in London almost six months, making contacts with people in the Muslim community, but she never turned up again..

The extended time in London completely drained Hassan's account. Anymore searching would need to wait until he could find work.

A friend in Cairo with an electronics business offered him repair work so he returned to Egypt. As more time went by the same friend often tried to distract him with party invitations and introductions to young women, which didn't interest him in the least. It wasn't that he didn't wish for companionship, but rather that these were not the kind of women who would tolerate his continuing search. And he was not about to give it up. Occasionally he would meet a more modern sort of woman, and he had no trouble with a certain level of intimacy, as long as she understood the ground rules. But his heart was not in it and these relationships never lasted long.

"Why do you continue with this?" His friend asked. "Does it ever occur to you that maybe she does not want to be found?"

It did occur to him, but it wasn't something he wanted to consider.

For awhile he went back to Alexandria. He liked the area, and Amir was able to find him steady work. He held on to the hope that Nadia would contact her aunt, but if she did, Leila kept it in confidence. . While doing some electrical work for a local resort, he fell into a relationship with the manager, an American woman. He allowed himself to stop searching and attempted to put the past behind him. After more than a year he had gone so far as to apply for a work visa to accompany her back to the United States when she asked him if he loved her. Being honest, he gave an honest answer. It wasn't the answer she was looking for, and she returned home alone.

He went back to searching and learned to live without attachments. He left Egypt and rarely contacted Jalal in Amman anymore. He picked up odd jobs here and there, someone always needed something fixed and he was good with mechanical things. The search became a way of life. The idea of finding her was as abstract and unreachable as the paradise described by the mullah in the mosque of his childhood. If he stopped searching, who would he be?

He continued to travel, over the next several years, to Algeria twice ,to Morocco, back to Turkey, and eventually to Spain. It was in Spain that he got the tip which took him to back to London. His passport was eyed more suspiciously in the post-9/11 world and he was not surprised to be detained. He was surprised however, that it was the Americans, and not the British authorities who wished to question him. He had never even been to the U.S. What could they possibly want from him? The two agents looked up as he was led into the room.

"Mr. Jarrah." The man said. "I'm Robert Hewitt. ASIS, and this is Agent Cole from the CIA. I think we can help each other."

Hours later Sayid looked again at the photos the American agent had given him, reassuring himself that it was really her. It seemed unimaginable that his search might actually come to an end soon. He was not certain about what he had agreed to do for the Americans and even if he succeeded questions bombarded him. _Would she want to see him?_ _Did she still feel the same or had she put the past and everything between them behind her? Would all the searching be worth it?_ He glanced one last time at the pictures then he replaced them in his pocket and settled into his seat. He might as well sleep. It was a long flight to Sydney.

"


End file.
